


This Is The Way The World Ends

by AsexualArchivist



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, no one asked me to do this yet here i am, post watcher's crown, see i know jonnys gonna make the ending sad as all hell so i gotta prepare myself for the worst, this one is sad yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 14:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsexualArchivist/pseuds/AsexualArchivist
Summary: "As it turned out, T. S. Eliot was wrong.The world didn’t end with a whimper.It didn’t end in a bang, either, though."Jon and Martin say goodbye.





	This Is The Way The World Ends

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself sad in the discord so now i have to make you all sad also!
> 
> set in the end game of the podcast, with the team trying to stop the watchers crown
> 
> this one gets real sad yall.

As it turned out, T. S. Eliot was wrong.

The world didn’t end with a whimper.

It didn’t end with a bang, either, though.

Martin opened his eyes, and he was surprised to only have two of them. He struggled to his feet- why had he been sitting? Oh- why did he sway when he stood? He noticed a red stain marring his blue jumper, but couldn’t feel the wound that must have caused it. That probably wasn’t good.

Martin tried to collect his thoughts, but they scattered when he looked too hard at any of them. His head pulsed with pain that seemed much too far away. He struggled to remember what it was that had happened, what he was doing, and his memories came into sharp relief, the force of them almost bringing him to his knees-

Elias- the Eye- _Jon-_

Martin stumbled forward, towards the altar Elias had set in the heart of the Institute to his god. Elias was slumped over it, blood pooling from a wound in his chest. The Watcher’s Crown had failed, surely- Martin couldn’t feel the Eye’s gaze on him any more strongly than before. Now that he thought about it, the presence was weaker, barely there. Almost as if the life was ebbing out of the thing that thought itself a god as Elias bled his last on its doomed altar. 

For a moment, the only sound was the gentle dripping of blood. Then, a shifting of cloth and a half-choked groan. It wasn’t coming from Elias. Martin dashed towards the sound, hoping, praying, _begging-_

And there he was. The Archivist. _Jon._ His own pool of blood spread out from beneath him, as well, a similar wound to Elias’s though apparently not as fatal. Jon’s eyes were gone, too; Martin couldn’t tell if they had been cut out or simply taken away, due to the blood masking the wounds. Still, Jon looked at him with his sightless eyes and smiled.

“Martin.” Jon shifted slightly, apparently trying to rise to his feet, but let out a noise of pain at the motion. “I- It worked. We stopped him.”

“Oh, god, Jon-” Martin knelt down beside him, trying to get a good look at the wound. There was too much blood, far too much. He pressed down on the injury anyway, trying to staunch the bleeding. Jon tried not to scream beneath him.

“N- No! Martin, it’s- Martin.” Jon gasped for breath, but Martin ignored him, pushing down harder. “Martin… it’s done.”

“No, no it _isn’t_ , because you are not dying here, I won’t bloody let you-”

Jon smiled; his teeth were bloody. “I’m sorry.”

Martin didn’t even try to stop the tears spilling over his cheeks. “No. I- I tried so hard to save you. I- I thought… I thought…”

Jon’s hand shakily found its way to Martin’s face, clumsily wiping away the tears. “I know. Thank you, Martin.”

This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t, Martin had tried for months and months to protect him and now Jon was dying in front of him, bleeding out from a wound he gave himself to stop the end of the world-

“-Martin.”

Martin came back to himself, choking on sobs. Jon’s face blurred in his vision, but Martin could see he was still smiling.

“Thank you so much. For everything. For- for every cup of tea.” Jon was starting to struggle for breath now, his lungs trying and failing to make up for the lack of blood pumping oxygen through his body. Jon laughed anyway, a broken, desperate sound.

“You’re not bloody dying on me, Jon, the paramedics will be here any minute-”

Jon shook his head. “The Eye has left me, Martin.”

Martin looked at him with wide eyes. Jon was… Jon again. Not the Archivist- just Jon, just Jonathan Sims, the man Martin had been in love with for years and was now holding desperately as he died.

“Thank you,” Jon whispered again.

“B-but you can’t heal, without the Eye you’ll-”

Jon smiled sadly. Martin cut himself off with another sob.

“Just… fuck you, Jon, do you know how hard I tried to save you?”

Jon looked him dead in the eye, blood dripping from his empty sockets. “Yes.” His hand cupped Martin’s face, stroking his cheek gently. “Of course I do. Because I understand now.”

Jon’s hand started to fall away, but Martin clutches it tight, bringing it to his lips. Jon tastes like blood and sweat and dust. Martin didn’t mind.

“I understand why, Martin- I,” Jon struggled to draw in another breath, wheezing. “I feel it too.”

“What?” Martin asked between sobs.

“I care about you, M-Martin. So, so deeply. I care… I care about you the way- the way you do about me.” He turned his empty sockets towards Martin. “I love you, Martin Blackwood.”

Martin couldn’t find it in himself to reply; he was too busy clutching Jon to his chest and weeping, heaving sobs that shook them both as Jon bled more red stains onto Martin’s jumper. He stroked Jon’s hair, muttering soothing phrases as Jon’s chokes gasps for air grew more and more labored. Jon’s hands glanced weakly off of Martin’s face, still trying to wipe away the tears that were threatening to drown them both.

“A- at least,” Jon gasped through a desperate laugh, blood dripping from his mouth, “at least I- I got to say it once.”

He gasped for more air, kept up his desperate plea for oxygen as long as his body could, but it wasn’t enough. He stopped moving in Martin’s arms, limp and pale and dead.

See, the end of the world wasn’t loud and wailing or soft and desperate. No, it was simply life, continuing as normal, around the end of everything. 

The world ended without a sound, without so much as a whimper.

Martin gently laid Jon’s body down. He was smiling, still, so peaceful- it was the most peaceful Jon had ever been. Martin leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Sleep well, Jon.”

And the Archivist could close his eyes at last.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I'm also asexualarchivist on tumblr :)


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